


Finding Home Again

by Robot_Qwerty



Category: Gundam Wing, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Relationships TBA Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 16:26:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19467724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robot_Qwerty/pseuds/Robot_Qwerty
Summary: Morgan Sinclair is an ex-soldier trapped between the magical and non-magical worlds. When his escape plan takes an unexpected turn and he finds out that one of the famous Gundam Pilots are actually family, what will he do?I accidentally deleted my original work of the same name, I am reposting the updated version





	1. Chapter 1

The glowing, cracked face of the watch loosely encircling Morgan’s wrist informed him that he had forgotten to turn his alarm back on after switching it off the day before. The sickly blue light seared his retinas in the mostly pitch-black basement, telling him that despite the lack of alarm, he had managed to wake up when he normally did. The groan that came from suddenly moving his very bruised and strained body seemed to have been dragged from the pit of his stomach, although he did manage to bite back the hiss as his bare feet touched the freezing concrete floor. Then, not bothering to try and squint in such encompassing darkness, he reached out to the left and found the cinder block that served as a side table in his ‘room’. Fumbling slightly with the jerry-rigged lamp, he managed to turn on the bulb.

Evan Thorkul, Morgan’s adoptive father, had found that throwing his adopted son into the basement was the best solution to be had in response to the nightmares that had the young man screaming in the middle of the night. This was, ironically, an improvement to his previously having lived in a rather cramped storage closet on the first floor. At least in the basement he had a hose and drain connected to the sewer system, which served as his bathroom.

The grunt that spilled from between chapped lips as Morgan’s retinas once again protested the burst of light couldn’t be helped. He wished, not for the first time, that he could figure out how to rig up a decent shade to cover the naked lightbulb. Alas, that had not happened, and the flickering bulb illuminated the truly depressing state of the area that he had been inhabiting for a little under two years. This part of the basement was the area where the furnace, water heater, and other various machines resided to keep the household running. The small part of this area that Morgan resided in had a low hanging ceiling and the unfortunate tendency to become very cold, and he felt a violent shiver wrack his body. The twinges of pain made him want to pretend that he didn’t still have more to do, but he gritted his teeth and went to quickly wash in freezing water and dress.

The previously mentioned cot was in the far-left corner it had been unceremoniously shoved into after he had found it in the trash. Father and son had no notion of thriftiness and had thrown away brand-new camping gear they had bought for a hunting trip after using it for a grand total of three days. The feeling of a room had been created using a pile of cinderblocks that had been left down here after the main section of the basement had been refurbished. The blocks had been stacked carefully in a sort of lattice structure served to hold the clothing he had managed to salvage in between the gaps so that they wouldn’t be on the dusty floor. The ‘bathroom’ was on the right side of the blocks (the Thorkul’s didn’t want him to touch their bathrooms except to clean them).

Morgan’s adoptive family were a typical Nuclear family construct: with Evan the high-ranking asshole as father, Anya the former model as mother, and Andrew as the product of that nightmarish marriage. They also just so happened to be an author’s stereotype of the snooty elite, with extra emphasis on the seedy underbelly.

Most would assume that at twenty-two years old, Morgan would not need to be adopted into a family. However, most would be wrong. When Morgan had turned twenty, the world’s government had decided that the age of majority would be altered to twenty-five. The social worker that the young man had been assigned after fleeing Canada and reaching the Sanq Kingdom, had decided in all her infinite wisdom, that his involvement in the civil war was enough of a reason not to let him continue as an adult like everyone else from his generation. He had been unceremoniously dumped in a juvenile corrections facility as most of the orphanages were full (due to some sort of conflict that Morgan wasn’t aware had happened) and left there to rot until the Thorkul’s had volunteered to take him in.

The program that the family was part of found homes for people whom had been caught in the transitioning laws and simply needed the extra support. Unfortunately for Morgan, the family that took him in decided to treat it like buying a slave and treated him as such. They had even gone so far as to create a fake bedroom to show the social worker, though they didn’t need to since the social worker was firmly planted in the family’s pocket.

Something like this would normally have prompted the independent Morgan (whom was very much considered an adult by the magical community) to leave as soon as possible. The ex-soldier was very familiar with hiding oneself away until the right moment, after all. However, Morgan hadn’t been alone when he had finally escaped from the graveyard that used to be his home country, and Evan was using that as the stick… with no carrot in sight. After that rather disturbing threat, he had considered grabbing said hostage and running, but there was the issue of not being able to take proper care of them, and the discovery of Evan Thorkul’s secret to success.

Sighing as deeply as he could manage without causing another round of pain, Morgan scoffed down a can of preserved fruit for breakfast and grimaced when he noticed that the food stash bought from very discretely collecting money was almost gone. His adopted family had left on vacation a week ago, though to where he couldn’t say, and in true horrific fashion, they had conveniently forgotten to take out food that he could live on until they returned.

Although Morgan relished each wonderful opportunity that he received when they left for a week or two, it presented problems with buying a meagre amount of food and religiously rationing the rather unhealthy sustenance that he could scrounge. He still had some of his liberated cash, so he knew that he was going to have to trek to a discount store far away from where he resided to find some more food that he could actually afford.

Stretching his neck from side to side and then carefully stretching, Morgan heaved himself up the stairs in order to do some more snooping. Finding out that there was physical proof that he could collect on Evan’s dirty dealings before he or his attorney, Gadd, could destroy it, had been a soothing balm to the stress and humiliation of being trapped in this horrible situation. Waiting for the right moment to release the papers and bring down the Thorkul family was about the only thing that still had him not completely giving up.

Sneaking into Evan’s office after walking down the ridiculously long hallway brought him up to the truly frustrating part of his desperate intel gathering. There was obviously a place somewhere in the house where documents were being stored, and Morgan could only assume that it was for blackmail and such just in case someone tried to rat Evan out. The problem was that after searching for about six months, he still couldn’t find the storage area: not even a freaking filing cabinet of scandalous photos.

This was one of the rooms that he had passingly searched before, because it was such a high traffic area for Evan. Trying to search for damning evidence would have been a lot easier if Evan trusted him at all. As it stood, Evan didn’t trust Morgan than to do more than lightly clean his office under supervision. The past week had been devoted to finishing the seemingly endless list of chores left for him to complete and searching the office for hidden cubbies and hidey holes.

Morgan knew that it was logically very silly to assume that there was some sort of secret room, or some lever that would reveal an evil lair, but at this point he was getting slightly desperate at his own lack of progress. Said desperation was what lead the normally level-headed boy to testing books on the shelves and feeling light sconces for looseness.

Just as he was about to give up and scold himself for being a moron, Morgan noticed a strange indent in the wall between the window and the bookshelf on the left side of the office. Walking over, he saw that the indent had seams, but the textured walls of the office made it look like part of a design.

Heart pumping madly, Morgan stared at the indent and tried to decide how to go about investigating without damaging anything. Idiot or not, Evan had always been a ‘shoot-first-ask-questions-later’ type of person, and Morgan was trying very hard not to be the first one literally shot. Clearing his throat and realising how dry it was, he decided to try the simplest of the options and lightly pressed down on the small rectangle of wall. He almost fell over in shock and incredulity when the little patch of wall suddenly depressed with a small, almost silent, ‘click’.

Morgan forced his brain to unscramble and gently prodded at the rectangle to see how it opened and was relieved to find that it simply swung open like a little door. Inside was a simple handle that looked like a lever handle doorknob. Swallowing another burst of nerves, Morgan prayed to Lady Magic that Evan and Gadd were arrogant and stupid enough not to have a trap or a more complicated way of opening this than turning a handle.

A strange series of clunks behind the wall startled the young man into letting go of the handle and jumping back after he had turned it. The bookcase directly next to him swung forward an inch, and he hesitantly pulled on the decorative ledge, his breath caught in his lungs as though even the slightest disturbance would set of the ninja squad waiting in the shadows for a signal to slice him into Morgan Tartar. When the bookcase swung forward on silent hinges and revealed the hidden alcove, the breath was released in a long exhalation of relief and disbelief.


	2. Chapter 2

I had been having a reasonably good day, everything considered: no one was being murdered, there were no ticking time bombs or some asshole starting a war. Unfortunately, this, and my romantic life and friendships aside, the entire month had actually been pretty crap.

As I looked at the meagre results of the very difficult and tedious amount of research and intel gathering in front of me, I felt the sting of despair at how little ground had been gained. This was all that we had managed to find for the case Heero and I were currently undertaking, I couldn't help but wilt and groan into my hands. 

"Groaning isn't going to get us anywhere, Duo," Heero stated in one of the most soldier-like tones he had, meaning that he was also reaching the end of his tether.

Looking up through blood-shot eyes, I glared for a moment before slumping onto the table and sighing dramatically. I could practically hear the eye-roll coming from the desk adjacent from mine. Normally, I wasn't this annoying, but we had been trying to get a warrant for a little over a month and it was becoming an insurmountable obstacle. Sometimes I wish we didn't have to work with all of these rules. The transition from being labeled a terrorist, to war hero, then agent had been interesting to say the least.

After the war, all five of us had sort of been done with all of the bullshit that came with fighting and espionage. Trowa had decided to work at a rural veterinary clinic so that he could stick around animals more than people. Quatre had taken over his families business (occasionally helping out on missions as a specialized consultant). Heero, Wufei, and I had become a part of the Preventer Agency under Une, but our work was on the opposite side of black-ops. Wufei worked with his lady-love Sally on the Family Reconstruction Act, helping families and orphans find one another. Heero and I were sort of like cops without the sheer amount of red tape, as well as FBI without the interference of government lackeys. 

Speaking in a whiny tone, I practically wailed, "Why can't we find anything on this moron, we should have found something to get us into the crypt that slime-ball calls a house like a month ago."

The sound of a repressed chuckle came from the open door of the office, which was quickly cut off when both inhabitants of the office glared at the entrance and the person standing there. 

Wufei rolled his eyes at our behaviour and smirked. The smile was a familiar one that had me tensing in anticipation.

Putting on my most idiotic smile to cover the irritation at his interruption, I sang, "Wuffers has something that's going to make our day Hee-chan!~ I can tell from the smug look on his face!~"

The scowl was worth it, even as Heero chastised me and ordered Wufei to "tell us something useful or get out".

Wufei glared at us both before sighing through his nose and smirking again. Walking over to Heero's desk (mine was closer, but he was still the same old Wufei after all this time), and dropped a file onto his desk. With a smirk that promised bad things, the Chinese man finally explained, "I heard from Sally that you two are having a bit of trouble getting anything solid on Thorkul for a warrant... As it so happens, Sally has put me in charge of anyone who hasn't registered into the FRA."

Heero snatched the folder off the desk, and scowled, "What does any of this have to do with our case?"

I frowned at that and watched the nasty glee blooming on Wufei's face, "Turn over the page."

Heero huffed a bit and turned the page of the file before pausing, his eyes widening the slightest bit, meaning that whatever he was looking at had shocked him.

Growling at the lack of information coming my way, I pushed away from my desk and stomped over to where Heero was sitting, no longer able to hide my irritation. Leaning over Heero's shoulder, which was normally something he would growl at me for, my jaw dropped as I saw the guardian section of the file on one Morgan Sinclair.

Evan Thorkul was the adoptive father of Morgan Sinclair, and he hadn't registered his adopted son into the FRA, which was required by law. Even I had entered a sample of blood into the database, although I hadn't been too surprised that there hadn't been any positive matches, a lot of people died during the war.

The smile that stretched across my face as I truly registered the information was just as vicious as the ones that appeared on the other two agents.

* * *

Even though the FRA wasn't technically under their duristiction, Une had been more than happy to allow Heero and himself to dig into the unregistered son angle enough to get a warrant for the arrest of Thorkul and his lawyer, as well as a search warrant for the man's home. The FRA wasn't a program to be taken lightly, after all. Une had spoken to the sector in charge of warrants and gotten all three agents a free pass to rummage through Thorkul's house like a couple toddlers in a toy store.

However, it was sort of an unspoken understanding that their main objective was Thorkul himself, and this transgression was merely the grease that got the cogs turning. I wasn't super concerned about the guy whom had enabled all this, other than to give him a big kiss. Meaning that the other agents on their team were going to handle taking the adopted son into their custody to get registered. Duo hoped that this Sinclair fellow wasn't super attached to his current adopted family, because Evans direct breaking of the law under the FRA was probably going to put the kid into another family.

Breaking through the front door with my combat boots felt pretty amazing as Agents flooded in behind me. Since I wasn't an idiot, I had looked through the blueprints or the house as soon as Heero and I had been slapped with this case. Heading to the left of the ridiculously opulent entrance hall, I followed behind Heero as we slowly cleared rooms. The place was giving me chills in a bad way: the floor, ceiling, wallpaper, and even the decorations somehow made the monstrous mansion feel more like a mausoleum than anything else. I almost expected to see a bunch of occult crap and shrunken heads to be lying around instead of the vases, creepy figurines and paintings we saw.

Listening intently to our surroundings, I kept half an ear on the headset on my head as other agents spread through the house, clearing rooms. The upper floors were being cleared, while the ones in the basement found a storage room that sounded promising.

Unfortunately, as we made our way down the stupidly long hallway to the kitchen, we all noticed the smoke coming out from under the door that was supposed to lead to Thorkul's study.

I was tempted to scream in frustration at yet another delay, but I knew that we weren't going to be able to do a thorough search until we dealt with the problem. Knowing that we would now have to take the time to clear the house out because of the fire was causing some rage; finding the bastard we had been investigating with his lawyer, standing in a secret room off of the study with the smoldering remains of burning documents was absolutely infuriating. Heero had gone so deep into soldier mode that I was actually kind of worried that he wasn't going to come out of it until he maimed Thorkul.

The delay actually kind of soured the satisfaction of putting cuffs on the moron. After arresting the two in the study, we were all forced to wait on the front lawn while the fire was cleared by the FD. Once it had been, Heero made a quick call to Une, while Wufei went in with the other agents to help clear the rest of the house. I decided to wait with Heero and just when it looked like we could start searching, I caught a few concerned murmurs coming from the team that had gone into the basement. Heero had taken his earpiece out for the moment while we were waiting on the lawn, so I was the only one who heard. Channeling my inner Une, I barked into the comms in a no-nonsense tone, "Report on progress". That caught Heero's attention as he lookd at me with eyes that demanded an explanation.

I tapped the earpiece to let him know that I was listening to an update, so he put in his own earpiece, I couldn't blame him for not wanting to wait. I felt a sick sort of nausea in my stomach at the words coming over the device and snapped my head up to the door as a few agents came out carrying tattered looking boxes, along with an limp figure being carried princess style. Wufei came out a moment later, with a look that I associated with him being truly pissed of contorting his face.

At this distance I couldn't really make out the figures face, but what I could see made the feeling of nausea worse even as I numbly called for an ambulance on autopilot. I could deduce who was most probably being carried out logically, but my brain refused to work it out. Both Anya Thorkul and her son were out at some sort fancy restaurant, which we had made sure of before entry. The only people that were supposed to be in the house right now, were Thorkul, Gadd, and the adopted son. The person in the agents arms looked like he had missed a meal, or a hundred, was dressed in what could only be described as rags, and was covered in bruises. Henrick, the agent carrying the body with a gentleness that was pretty rare for him, made it across the lawn and I finally had a good enough view of the face resting on his flack jacket to swear a blue streak. 

Laying, unconscious and beaten in Henrick's arms, was one Morgan Sinclair. 


	3. Chapter 3

The sound that greeted Morgan as he woke from the dark oblivion of unconsciousness was the sound of beeping. Morgan couldn't help but furrow his brows at the sound. As the noise was both familiar and unfamiliar. Opening blurry eyes, he realized that it was not, in fact, the sound of the alarm on his watch; which was even more confusing. Shifting a bit, Morgan was also surprised that the amount of pain he expected after his 'family' had abruptly returned from their vacation was far less than he was expecting, almost muted. Dull purple-grey eyes slowly came into focus with a little bit of a wince, and the sight of white ceiling tiles was odd, but so was the fact that he could see anything at all. Looking around a bit and trying to get his brain to function, Morgan noticed that he was actually somewhat comfortable, and that the beeping was coming from some little white box to the right of his bed.

Mind going blank for a moment, not comprehending what he was looking at, flashes of memory began to skid across his brain, making his heart start to beat faster:-

> _Sitting at the bottom of the basement steps, Morgan was letting the half-can of peaches he had just eaten settle in his cramping stomach before he started on his chores again-_
> 
> _*BANG*_
> 
> _Practically jumping a foot in the air, Morgan whipped around to see Evan standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at him with enough hatred that you would think Morgan had just murdered the man's entire family in front of him. When Evan started to stomp down the stairs Morgan felt a moment of genuine fear steal his breath as ice slid through his veins._ **Had he found out?-Had Evan put an alarm system to alert him of anyone entering the secret room in his study?** _Morgan scrambled back from the steadily approaching, fuming man, and prayed to Mother Magic herself that he survived the next few minutes._
> 
> _The first hit smashed into his temple and sent him flying. Morgan felt shame run through him even as pain spiked in his head at the blow. He had been a soldier for Circe's sake, he should be defending himself, but he couldn't fight back for fear of the consequences from a government that wasn't even his._
> 
> _"The fucking preventers are coming here because of you," Evan practically snarled. The next blow was on his stomach, and all Morgan could see was a shiny black shoe coming back for a second time. "You fucking freak!" When the shoe came for his head, however, things blurred from one moment to the next. _
> 
> _..._
> 
> _The next semi-clear memory was of dragging himself past the furnace and onto his little cot, trying very hard not to jostle his left wrist. He was fairly sure that it was broken._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _Morgan was woken up by the sound of the door to the utility room smashing open. Hazily, he supposed that Evan must have locked it earlier and whoever was there now, had been too impatient to go and get the keys. Unfortunately, Morgan was hardly in a state to call out to whoever it was to see what they wanted, let alone get up and out of his little area._
> 
> _..._
> 
> _The sound of someone getting sick jolted Morgan out of his dozing state and he felt his eyebrows scrunch. Trying to move, a harsh whine broke from his throat when he twitched his arms to get up. Morgan could only stare dumbly at the swollen, black looking limb hanging over the side of the cot._
> 
> _The sound of someone approaching had his head snapping up, only to regret the action as black spots swarmed his eyes._
> 
> _When he was finally able to focus again, an Asian man, whom looked to be a few years older than himself, was crouched down in front of him. Morgan flinched back from the suddenness of his appearance, causing yet another pained noise to escape his throat._
> 
> _The man moved slowly and deliberately, and even then Morgan wanted to run and hide. Then, the man brought out what looked like a large flat wallet. He flipped it open to reveal an official looking badge with a crest Morgan had never seen._
> 
> _"My name is Wufei Chang, I am a preventer agent. I was sent here to find Morgan Sinclair and bring him in to be entered into the FRA Database," the man stopped, swallowing, his eyes looking uncertain. "If you are Mr. Sinclair, Evan Thorkul's adopted son, can you blink twice for me?"_
> 
> _Not really sure what a preventer was, but vaguely understanding that this man had authority of some kind if he was in Evan's basement, Morgan blinked twice. He wondered why the man - Agent Chang - wouldn't just ask him straight out. Then he caught sight of his wrist and thought that maybe it was because he looked like absolute shit._
> 
> _Whilst Morgan had been on that pointless little thought journey, the Agent had spoken to another man wearing black and tactical gear before turning back to himself._
> 
> _"This is Agent Adam Henrick, and he's going to take you outside," Chang was speaking very softly, and the agent he gestured to looked very uncomfortable._
> 
> _I blinked twice again, because that seemed like the safest thing to do at the moment, but when Henrick went to pick me up, alarm bells started to blare in the back of my head. There had to be another reason that these men were here, right? I mean, you don't bring heavily armed men to get someone registered in some random database... right?_
> 
> _I struggled a bit when Henrick started to slip his arms under my torso whilst trying not to jostle my wrist. Both men were immediately trying to reassure me that they weren't going to hurt me, but I shook my head. The black spots were back, but I couldn't let this sort of opportunity pass. I might just end up right back where I started. I had seen better, and worse, men than that massive asshole Evan, buy their way out of trouble._
> 
> _Grabbing onto Chang's flak jacket with my right hand, I brought him as close as I could, and whispered hoarsely, "Behind the furnace..." I had to breathe shallowly, this was getting even more painful, "Brick with chip on bottom left side... three bricks to the right... one brick up... no mortar in between... boxes..."_
> 
> _Everything went black._

Morgan heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards his bed and realized that the beeping was a heart monitor. He had no idea where he was or if he was going to be able to escape from whoever had him. Rationally, Morgan understood that it was unlikely that if Thorkul had been able to get himself free of whatever had brought those agent's to the door, he wouldn't be in a hospital or whatever this was, but his primal brain was going haywire. Scrambling up the bed, Morgan got into a crouched position in spite of the many aches that littered his body and the cast on his left wrist. He knew that he wasn't really in any condition to fight right now, but there was no way in hell he was about to go back to that Merlin Damned house.

The curtains enclosing his bed ripped open and Morgan found himself face-to-face with a man that had long brown hair and purple eyes wearing a leather jacket, a blonde woman wearing a lab coat, and a dark haired man in scrubs all looking panicked.

The first wonderfully intelligent thing that fell out of his mouth, through his confusion at seeing these extremely concerned looking people, was, "Huh?"


End file.
